


there's magic in the palms of your hands

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, i'm going to stop with these tags now bye, it's all soft and sweet, it's literally just harry being drunk and in love with louis that's the whole fic, nothing too detailed though, they are drunk and in love basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>they get drunk and wander the streets late at night, high on the feeling of being able to hold hands in public like any ordinary couple (though there is nothing ordinary about them; inebriated or not, Harry knows this)</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's magic in the palms of your hands

The night is dark and quiet and there's something like magic thrumming through his veins. 

Though, that may just be the alcohol. 

But, no, he turns his head to his left and sees bright blue; he feels the hand in his and the most remarkable feeling sweeps through him. He feels all warm and fuzzy right down to his fingertips and toes. And he thinks that maybe this feeling is love, and he also thinks that maybe love is a bit like magic. 

He giggles.

"What's so funny, love?" Louis looks up at him, head tilting in that inquisitive way he has, an eyebrow quirked, a sweet smile on his lips. Harry wants to taste it, so he leans in and presses their lips together. 

Another giggle slips from his lips. "We're magic, Lou. Don't you feel it?" 

Louis pulls them to a halt and stands facing Harry, contemplating him for a moment. He’s got that look on his face, the one where he full well knows that Harry is being ridiculous, but chooses to indulge him anyway. 

Harry is so, so in love. 

There’s no one else around, and even if there was, the shadows in the night embrace them like old friends, hiding them and keeping them safe from prying eyes. So they stand in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers entwined like any ordinary couple (though there is nothing ordinary about them, inebriated or not Harry knows this), while Louis studies him. And Harry can see the exact moment he’s come to a conclusion and smiles down at him, waiting for the verdict. 

Louis steps closer, and reaches the hand that isn’t clasped in Harry’s to gently run his fingers through his curls. “I think you’re right, H.” His smile is so soft it’s almost unbearable; sometimes Harry feels like he might burst into flames, consumed entirely by his love for Louis. He isn’t sure how to put the feeling into words, but he looks into Louis’ eyes and thinks he maybe understands. When Louis stands on tiptoe and leans up to kiss him, Harry knows with certainty that he does. 

“I was working on a new song today. Almost finished with it, too.” Louis says as he steps back, hand still working through Harry’s hair. 

“Mhmmmm, wha'sit about?” 

“Love, mostly. Persevering in spite of challenges-”

“Sounds familiar.”

“- and you, of course.” 

Harry beams at him, a smile that threatens to crack his face in two. _Magic_ , he thinks, as Louis pokes his dimple with one finger, _Louis is magic_. 

“Can I hear it?” 

“Soon. Maybe tomorrow.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Louis stands on tiptoes and presses a kiss to Harry’s nose; his eyes go crossed as Louis moves closer, trying to keep him in focus. Louis sways away, gently tugging him along. Silence settles between them as they continue down the street, hands linked. Louis’ thumb moves against Harry’s knuckles, sparks flying between them where they touch. 

There's something freeing about roaming the streets of a city at night, keeping to familiar side streets, passing the occasional stranger who does not spare them a second glance. He's thankful for this night, this moment tucked away between a million others where they are not allowed: to touch, to look, to share a soft kiss or tender embrace. He feels the weight, the importance of being allowed just to _be_ even if for now it can only be for one evening. 

They stumble up the pathway of one of many houses they've bought together (each one feels like a safe-haven, a promise to each other), and Harry watches silently as Louis works the key into the lock, admiring the way his hair sweeps across his face and softens his features. The door opens silently, and they step into the front hall. 

Harry loses his balance slightly as he takes off his boots, swaying precariously stood on one foot for a moment until a gentle hand settles on his hip, steadying him. He walks up the stairs, slowly, and wanders down the hall, listening for the soft footsteps following along behind him. He skips over to the massive king sized bed in the middle of their bedroom, flopping face-first into the pillows, softly laughing for no reason at all. He stays like that until he feels the mattress sink down next to him, and turns over, pulling Louis into his chest. 

They get settled and just look at each other for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Someone told him once that it’s almost unnerving to watch them at times, the intensity and understanding behind their gazes, the way their minds seem to be always on the same page. He only smiled in response, glanced across the room to where Louis was standing among a circle of their closest friends. Their eyes met, Louis raising an eyebrow (a silent question, “alright, babe?”) and Harry gave him a smile, a short nod, before they both turned back to their respective conversations.

They kiss, soft presses at first that leave Harry yearning for more. But he also wants to savour this, to take his time tasting Louis and feeling him in every nerve ending in his body. 

“I’m in love with you. I am so in love with you.” Louis says, breathless. His hands run up and down Harry’s sides, pressing into the softness that sits around his hips, and he leans down to kiss his lips, his neck, his collarbone. He uses teeth and Harry loves that there will be marks there tomorrow, proof of their love, of this night, like the tattoos that mark their bodies, less permanent but just as meaningful. He shudders with anticipation as Louis’ hands work lower, that same feeling washing over him again, electricity bursting through his veins.

“I love you, Lou. So much.” 

Sometimes Louis looks at him and he feels like they’re the only two people in the world. It’s just them and their love, with everything else fading into the background. 

They gasp into each other’s mouths and rut against each other, heat building between them until it’s not enough, and soon enough they shed their clothes. Louis opens Harry up and he’s so gentle and careful with him. Harry’s heart is filled with so much love. He didn’t know it was possible to feel so much for one person. 

They come down from the high of it all just as the sky begins to lighten on the eastern horizon, casting the room in hazy grays and navy blues. Harry nuzzles into Louis’ side, making himself smaller to better fit in Louis’ arms. 

“Magic. We’re magic.” he mumbles, just before sleep takes him, lips moving against the skin of Louis’ neck. He laughs, but it’s soft and sleepy and he feels Louis’ responding chuckle vibrate in his chest.

“That we are, Haz.” Louis presses gentle kisses to the top of his head. 

“Love you, Lou.”

“Love you too, darling.” 

_fin_

**Author's Note:**

> yikes it's been a while since I last posted fic. first one in the 1D fandom - comments and feedback are much appreciated!!


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